


John and Dave: Get married in Vegas

by fukmylyf



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Crack, F/M, Gen, M/M, i wrote this in half an hour, literally just crack, shoot me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:44:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fukmylyf/pseuds/fukmylyf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompted by this: http://teenmobile.tumblr.com/post/110502781223/mormonstrous-theshrikeabyssal</p>
            </blockquote>





	John and Dave: Get married in Vegas

Your name is Dave Strider and today is your wedding day.

John’s wearing a stupid fake tux and you’ve got this hot as fuck wedding dress on. Karkat, supportive asshat he is, is sitting on the first pew, texting someone.

“Vantas, come on, it’s my wedding day,” you whine, pouting at him. He flips you off without looking up.

“Jade and Vriska are apparently killing it at Blackjack, and I already started a bet with Terezi that Vriska’s gonna lose. I am not losing to that bitch again. No fucking way,” he growls, glaring at his phone.

“Course Jade is gonna win, you’re right to bet on her,” you mumble. “Now pay attention, we’re getting married. I get it if you’re jealous but, Vantas, man, come on.”

He glances up at you and smirks. “Ok, sure, I’m paying attention. Go ahead, declare your undying love for each other.”

John glances up from his own phone. “I just bet money on Vriska. My girlfriend is going to kick your girlfriend’s ass.”

“My girlfriend is your _sister,_ you absolute fucking nookwhiff.”

“What _ever_. Oh my god, guys, you’re supposed to be my friends and you’re not even paying attention on my _wedding day_? John, you’re a terrible fiancé.”

“Great,” he mumbles, turning back around.

“I don’t think any of us are drunk enough to be doing this, Strider.”

“Fuck you,” you say, flipping him off. “I make a gorgeous bride and you’d be lucky to tap this.”

Karkat shrugs and John giggles. 

“I dunno, Dave, Karkat would make a way more gorgeous bride than you,” John teases, poking your depressingly flat chest. 

“Hell yes I would. But don’t break his heart, John, you can get a divorce after you’re married. Maybe once you know how _godawful_ a housemate he is.”

“I make you pancakes every morning, Vantas, come on.”

“No, you make me some kind of burnt disc that vaguely resembles a pancake. _Gamzee_ makes me pancakes every morning.”

“Shit, Dave, I don’t think this’ll work. I thought you were a good cook. It’s the only reason I wanted to marry you. Since apparently that’s a lie, I think I’ll go marry Gamzee now.”

You sniff and pretend to wipe a tear away. “B-but, I thought you loved me, John.”

“No. I only loved the apple pie you brought over that one time.”

You’re about to come up with some clever retort, but then the pastor guy walks in. He looks as angry as Karkat normally does. He glances over at your alien friend, who gives the pastor a thumbs up.

“Aight, so apparently you’re both idiots and Vantas is the only one with brains.”

“Wait, you know Karkat?” John asks, bouncing on his heels.

“Unfortunately, yeah. Kid worked for me a while back,” the pastor guy replies.

“Not a kid,” Karkat mumbles, scowling.

“Yeah, whatever, _kid,_ ” the old guy says. He then says something to Karkat in a completely different language, what the hell. It’s not even Alternian. Karkat nods, though, and replies in the same language.

“What the hell language was that?” you ask. 

“Gaelic,” the old pastor guy growls. 

“Hey, Slick,” Karkat says. Ok, old guy’s name is Slick. Interesting name. “There a divorce office anywhere near here? Asking for a friend. Or, friends.”

“Yeah, one right around the corner, about.”

“Thanks.”

“What friend’s do you even need to know this for? None of us are married, and this isn’t even legit.”

“Yeah. But hey, maybe you can get a fake divorce.”

John rolls his eyes and huffs. You turn back to your fake fiancé, in his ridiculous suit and stupid blue tie. Seriously, you thought that cut went out of style last century. 

“Do you, Idiot number one, take this fucking numbskull to be your lawfully wedded. Wife? I’ll say wife, since apparently you’re eager enough to wear that stupid dress.”

“I do,” John says, giggling.

“And do you, Idiot number two, take this other numbskull to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” you say, putting on a flowery, breathless and high-pitched voice. You can hear Karkat cracking up.

“Right, you can kiss the bride, or what the fuck ever,” Slick grumbles, just up and leaving. Ok then. 

John’s giving you this odd look. “We don’t have to actually kiss, do we?”

“Tradition, Egderp, _tradition_.”

He blushes and shifts awkwardly, so your grab him and dip him, pressing your lips to his quickly. Karkat’s laughing his ass off, snapping pictures on his phone. John, on the other hand, is severely unamused, shoving at you and yelling stuff against your lips. You pull him back up, grinning at him. He punches you in the arm.

“Congrats, you’re married,” Karkat says, still smirking. “Just for the record, I did try to warn you. So I think I’ll tell you that this is legitimate. Hope you enjoy life together forever now!”

He turns and walks out, texting furiously. 

“What the fuck,” John says.

“This was a mistake,” you reply, nodding. 

“Dave,” John states, turning you towards him. He places his hands firmly on your shoulders and looks you very firmly in the eyes. “I don’t mean to offend you, but you’re a terrible wife. And your family is horrible. I want a divorce.”

You fake a sniffle and wipe away a couple of fake, nonexistent tears. “Okay,” you say softly. “I enjoyed this short time we shared together.”

Karkat snorts. What the hell, the asshole didn’t leave? 

“Holy crap, totally putting this on youtube,” Karkat snorts, leaving for real this time.

Mother of fuck, you have awful taste in friends. 

 


End file.
